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Compartments

I’m reminded of the books I was read as a child and the positive reinforcement I received when I parroted them back

In retrospect I see a foal being being fed from a cupped hand while a whip is gripped in the other

Being force fed eggs then punished for the excess sulfur of my soul

The pushback against me wearing what I want, being who I am, and expressing my truest self was reared with shame, embarrassment, and hostility

How dare I, a growing and explorative creature, want to become more than a replica of my direct environment

Some things were allowed, but only if they were agreeable enough or cute enough; meek enough. Small and unthreatening they wanted me.

A spine was considered "mean" and was punished with a thrown brick, and tolerance was rewarded with many kissed ones until I collapsed under their weight

For all my life I have tried to purify the you in me.

#original writing #poetry #writing #grief #childhood grief #healing

Saturnalia

I write because I must, like breathing and being

It asks nothing of me other than who I am

I needn’t censor, or soften, or change—I can be present in my moods and entirety

It doesn’t dull the blade within myself I have been sharpening, and it doesn’t encourage it’s use

My being is neutral, open to opinions but never subjected to them.

Criticisms and assumptions roll down my back like rainfall on duck feathers, unless the child within finds virtue in them

I’ve spent all my life bending and bowing, so I will no longer do so unless I must

My jadedness is earned, and still I know that someday I will thaw from this when I’m ready.

#original writing #poetry #writing #grief #childhood grief #healing #growing up

I will not self destruct or concede or just lay down and die. I refuse to be a victim of myself or the things I have say in

Fighting tooth and nail to not become like the people who hurt me. I’ve come this far I’m not collapsing now.

#writing #poetry #grief #healing

I can’t keep waiting for life to happen as I lick my wounds. It’s not fair to myself to keep picking at scabs as they’re trying to close just to satiate the incurable "why?" of what’s happened. The house is starting to stink, and it’s time to move the body

#writing #original writing #poetry #grief #healing

It’s meaningful speaking to yourself kindly, especially when you’re already tender. I feel like this is a common message, but the reminder can make a difference

#poetry #softness #healing #please be kind

I cannot keep allowing the memories of unsafe and unhealed people make me sick. I cannot even bring myself to rest for fear of another person stressing me out or stomping me out

#writing #healing #grief

People are going to tear into you anyways, the person who said people are too busy with themselves to judge you was more well adjusted than most. Let them say whatever, let them judge you and try to tear you down. If you don’t respect them (and you shouldn’t, at least not their behavior), and they clearly aren’t acting right or being safe—it will always been in your best interest to let go of as much as possible and release them if you’re able

#healing #grief #vent post

Even just the thought of you has been making me so sick my skin is itching and flaking off like a reptile.

#writing #poetry #grief

The only reason I don’t hate you is because I see that you’re still human. The only reason I forgive you is so I can finally rest and receive my happiness.

#writing #poetry #healing #grief

I want to cut everything out until only what’s necessary remains. My soul is too tired to care about pretty fluff, and that hurts because it used to matter so much to me.

I fantasize of slamming my front door in your face and laughing at you. I want to humiliate you even worse than you’ve made me feel dirty and stupid. But for the child in me I work on redirecting those thoughts. Never for you, not anymore.

#healing #writing #grief #vent post

It’s taking every ounce of humanity and goodness in me to not become terrible. I have beautiful things that await me and I’ll be damned if I allow the ghosts of my abusers— even some of them in the flesh, to take that from me too. I will remain gentle and kind, but I refuse to allow other people to cut my claws and file my teeth. That is NOT their choice or jurisdiction, and I WILL protect all of me now if I need to.

People have taken even some of my bones from me it feels like. It’s so hard packing up and moving forward when there are 20 or so hungry threads trying to trip me up and pull me back in so they can chew on what’s left.

#original writing #poetry #writing #grief #healing

I may never get my justice, and a part of me dies at the realization.

#writing #healing #grief

How shriveled my grief becomes as I recognize the demons surrounding me are simply my shadows cast upon the people I breathe beside.

What is mine is only theirs in humanity; projections of half selves and ambiguous behaviors.

Flat faces and souring neutrality viciously venomized and sucked out then spit back out onto the next person.

#original writing #shadow work #paletongue

Is my bliss in service or solace?

I want to sever and cut and hack away at all this useless film compacting me

From the inside out; a cannibalistic caterpillar

I seethe, then rest before growing restless again with nowhere to go

My sense of self devoured by others—but self betrayal eats away at me most

Slivers taken off of me and put on their plates as I starve myself hollow

I want to push, and I want to burn—but still I can’t find who I am

#poetry #shadow work #dark poetry #original writing #paletongue

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